Aaron left four weeks ago. Stiles was trying not to think about it but really how could he not? Whenever he wasn't directly thinking about anything…at least one Hale would sneak right into his thoughts. Stiles had learned by now that they were both fairly persistent. Bastards.
And he'd just finished his final makeup exam. What was he supposed to do now?
Stiles hung around the parking lot much longer than he would admit to…ever. What he was expecting he wasn't exactly sure. But shouldn't Aaron just pop up again, like he had last time? Where the hell was he? Stiles hauled himself up into his jeep, patting Gus' head halfheartedly.
"Well let's hope I passed right?" Gus shoved his head and both front paws into Stiles' lap before settling in and sighing. "Thanks for the support Buddy."
He waited another handful of minutes before driving home.

Of course, his father being the sheriff, he noticed immediately that Stiles was still moping. Apparently it had reached a new low because now he decided to comment on it.
"Stiles I'm here if you want to talk."
Stiles deflated even further, chin nearly falling into his spaghetti.
"Is this about him?"
Stiles nodded slowly.
"Now that you're done with school it's harder huh?"
Stiles took a deep breath, embarrassed to feel himself choking up. He nodded again.
"Yeah," his father agreed, "it's hard learning to be alone again."
"Yeah," Stiles agreed quietly.
What was hardest was not knowing what was happening. Were things still in the works? What even had been in the works? Had it fallen through? Was Aaron never coming back? Was he not allowed to come back?
Should Stiles keep hoping? Did he have another option?
"It doesn't get easier. Not really. But you're so young Stiles. You'll find someone else. I know you're not meant to be alone for the rest of your life."
"You're not meant to be alone for the rest of your life either Dad."
The words were out before Stiles could catch them and his father looked stricken.
"I just mean…if you're ever ready…I wouldn't be opposed to it."
His cheeks were burning and he spun his fork in his pasta as a quick distraction.
"I want you to be happy," he mumbled, keeping his eyes on the spinning red noodles.
"I want you to be happy too Son," his father finally returned, voice oddly soft.
Stiles had the sudden urge to hug his father so, stumbling from his chair, he did.

…

To say the least Derek was not in a good mood. In fact he was barely keeping it together. It all started when his mother revealed that out west was actually the furthest fucking west west could be without hitting the ocean. California. California. They were locked into a contract to send half a unit to California for at least six months. At least. Derek hadn't even known what he was agreeing to and his mother knew he hadn't known. He gritted his teeth, barely holding a snarl in.
But he was driving alone again. Day three on the road found him back in his own car, Curtis, Matt, Grace, and Devon grouped together in one truck, Landon, Eden, and Henry were in the second.
It wasn't that Derek didn't want to ride with them.
It was that they didn't want to ride with him.
Not to mention Devon was from Texas and loved country music. There was only so much Derek could take.
But he still didn't understand why they were being sent across the country.
And he wasn't even sure he'd be able to stand being in the same state as Stiles. How was he supposed to deal with that?
But at least he didn't know where exactly Stiles was. He couldn't be tempted. He couldn't lose control.
His mother had assured him this had nothing to do with him or Stiles. They were just helping out an old friend. Purely pack business. He'd just have to accept that and move on. This would keep him busy and that was something to be grateful for.
He guessed.
They were set to arrive today and Derek was sure this was the last time he was going to be alone for a while. He should really just relax in the quiet.

"It's a nice house," Curtis said, knocking his elbow into Derek's.
Derek grunted his agreement.
"And it doesn't help at all does it?"
Derek sighed, heavily.
"I'll be fine. I just wasn't expecting this. That's all."
"I know you'll be okay. I'm not checking if you're okay. This is a good thing we're doing alright? Let's just focus on that. And unpack the trucks."
Derek rolled his eyes, almost laughing when Curtis shoved him.
"Yeah whatever you say Alpha Jr."
Devon and Landon broke into a chorus of howls and Derek cracked a smile.
"Hales," Grace yelled, "get your asses over here and help!"
The unpacking went fairly well but Derek still groaned when Devon cranked up a country station in one of the trucks.
"I thought this was California," he groused.
"It is. Just outside Beacon Hills," Landon offered with a grin.
"You're all traitors," Derek returned sullenly.
"Face it," Landon slid his box onto the counter and clapped a hand on Derek's shoulder, "you're the odd man out."
"Traitors," Derek repeated precisely.

…

Stiles was spinning his phone aimlessly between his fingertips.
Scott was on vacation with his mom.
His father was at work.
Even Gus was passed out on the couch downstairs.
He was alone, again, and bored out of his mind. His fingertips continued slipping over the screen as they turned the black plastic.
Why he was holding his phone he wasn't even sure. Aside from a weird apology text from Danny he hadn't heard from anyone else lately. He wasn't expecting anything. But maybe it was the possibility that it would go off.
Twenty minutes later he'd more or less given up, jumping when it vibrated on his chest.
The text was from an unknown number and Stiles probably read it fifteen times before he shoved off his bed and all but ran from the room.
Gus stayed where he was, eyeing Stiles before laying his head back down.
"Good boy," Stiles told him, yanking his keys from the hook.
His heart was in his throat and he couldn't stop himself from scanning the text one more time before cranking the key in the ignition.
5194 Aubergine I think I dropped something. Be careful.
Yeah Stiles should probably be partially terrified receiving a text like this. And he definitely shouldn't go. But who else could it be? The text screamed Aaron.
Anyone else would have said what they dropped, or what to do if Stiles found it.
Bastard.
He steadfastly ignored the affectionate tinge as he drove out of town. Aaron was an asshole and Stiles was not ready to kiss his feet just because he'd re-established contact in a very assish way. He wasn't.

There was a chain across the end of the driveway and Stiles sat with the engine idling as he debated. He'd have to get out of his car one way or the other. He just wasn't sure if be careful meant don't go roaring up in your jeep or don't get out of the car. But he'd have to get out of the car anyways right? Stifling a groan Stiles shut off the engine and made sure he had his keys tucked in one pocket and his phone in the other.
He was reasonably sure he wasn't being sent to his death. Nothing to worry about.
The driveway wasn't really that long but Stiles wasn't exactly in a hurry. Again he debated. Did be careful mean get out as soon as possible or don't be obvious? The only thing he knew for sure was that Aaron was indeed an asshole. An Asshole. Aaron the Asshole. Stiles couldn't help a small snort.
His phone buzzed and he stopped to pull it out.
Are you there yet
Stiles snorted again.
Where's the question mark?
The response was almost immediate.
Are you there yet?
Very clever. Asshole.
There was no response and Stiles waited before realizing this was just Aaron's way of getting what he wanted. He had no choice but to keep walking.

The trees finally started thinning out and Stiles stopped dead as he realized this wasn't just an abandoned property. Not anymore. The front door was open and more than one car was parked out front.
His heart hammered in his chest.
His feet stuttered forward.
Someone pulled a box from one of the trucks as he watched, moving towards the house. A man met him, hands gripping the box too. They appeared to fight over it for a few seconds before the first released it and turned.
No.
"Derek?" he gasped out, mouth going dry and throat wringing tight.
This couldn't be happening. His family couldn't be that clever. They couldn't have-they couldn't have gotten him here. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a dream.
But there was only one way to find out.
The rest of the distance between them seemed forever.
Stiles was barely four feet away and he couldn't understand why Derek hadn't heard him, why he hadn't turned to see him. He was at the back of the truck again, stretching into the bed of it for another box.
"Derek!"
The muscles in Derek's back jumped as he jerked up, cracking his head on the lid before whipping around.

But Stiles was there then, launching himself onto Derek in what was perhaps the best move of his life.
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," Stiles gasped out.
His arms were around Derek's neck, holding onto him for all he was worth. Clinging was probably more apt.
"Stiles?"
Derek sounded as breathless as Stiles felt, one hand landing on his back to steady him.
That was when Stiles realized he was shaking.
"What are you doing here?" Derek demanded, one hand tugging on his shoulder.
Stiles whined behind his teeth, holding tighter.
"No don't let me go," he pleaded, shoving his face into Derek's neck.
"I'm not," Derek assured him, hand slipping from his shoulder and across his back. "I just need to see you."
He inhaled deeply, the hand on Stiles' lower back rubbing up and down slowly.
"Now I understand," he sighed.
"Your family," Stiles returned.
"Mm."
"Remind me not to get on their bad side," Stiles managed, wiping at his eyes the best he could with his bicep.
"Impossible."
"I can't think," Stiles admitted after another moment.
"No," Derek agreed softly.
"I can't…god..." His fingertips drifted up into Derek's hair, filling an urge to be actively touching him instead of just holding on.
Derek pulled him closer, leaning against the back of the truck.
"Stiles," he repeated, disbelief lacing the murmur.
Stiles swallowed with some difficulty before forcing his lips open.
Nothing came out as Derek swung him around, shoving Stiles between the truck and his chest. He growled so deep Stiles felt the vibrations, gasp cutting off in pain as Derek bit into his neck.
Derek turned to snarl at the man approaching, eyes lit blue.
"Mine," he growled gutturally.
"Oh fuck," Stiles managed, eyes rolling back just a little.

The guy laughed, obviously amused. He held up both hands.
"Damn Bro I helped get you here why would I try to take him from you?"
Derek didn't answer, choosing to nuzzle into Stiles' bloody neck instead.
Stiles barely held in a whimper.
"I'm Curtis, Derek's older brother," Curtis offered, waving quickly. "You can meet everybody later…I think we're just gonna stay inside the house for now."
"Kay," Stiles agreed, shuddering when Derek's tongue ran a long stripe up his neck.
Curtis was gone and Stiles only vaguely registered the music cranking even louder before changing to something closer to rock.
"Not even a kiss?" he hazarded, "Straight to the claiming?"
He shivered again, hands clamping on the back of Derek's neck.
"Sorry," Derek breathed out, pulling back enough to meet his eyes. "I sort of…lost it."
"I noticed," but Stiles couldn't keep the smile off his face and Derek tentatively returned it after a beat. Stiles moved closer, hugging him and Derek went back to his neck.
"God," Stiles murmured eventually, "I want to climb you like a tree. And I want to sleep on your chest. And I want to kiss you until I can't breathe. And I want to cry for a ridiculously long time when I realize that this is real, that you're really here. And I want you to nuzzle me like you do and hold me until I'm done. And I want you to meet my dad. And I want him to see how happy you make me. Because I'm going to be happy. We're going to be so happy. Fuck. Derek. So happy." He inhaled until it felt like his chest was going to crack. "You're happy right," he managed, feeling breathless again. "I mean you claimed me so you still-"
"Yes." Derek cut him off forcefully. "God yes I'm happy Stiles."
"I'm going to doubt everything for like the first six months," Stiles told him plainly, "in fact you're not allowed to let me go for six months. I've just decided."
Derek chuckled against his skin.
"Hope you have a big shower."
"Sponge baths," Stiles muttered stubbornly.
Derek chuckled again, gripping him tighter for just a moment.
"I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"
Stiles nearly rolled his eyes. He also nearly called Derek an idiot for asking. But he thought both of those things might actually deter the kissing so he just tried to stop smiling long enough to be kissed instead.

It didn't work as well as he was hoping. That is to say his lips wouldn't stop curling up and when Derek growled in frustration Stiles giggled quickly.
He was too happy to kiss Derek.
He was too fucking happy.
Derek bit his bottom lip, all teeth and direct pressure.
Stiles couldn't help a wounded little noise, humming out a moan when Derek finally caught his lips in a way that felt like ecstasy.
They kissed.
Teasing presses for what felt like years.
Stiles' hands slipped down Derek's ribs when they finally paused for air.
"I missed you," he told him quietly, hands sliding around to his back.
Derek kissed his cheek before moving down to kiss his jaw as well.
"I-" he cut off, hands sliding to the small of Derek's back and feeling something that was definitely not muscle. "Uh…" he managed.
"Just my knife," Derek dismissed, kissing him again.
"I'm sorry knife?" Stiles demanded words half mangled.
"Just for defense."
"Oh," Stiles exhaled.
"It's easier to conceal than a gun."
"I noticed," Stiles told him, eyebrows moving up.
Derek rolled his eyes quickly and Stiles' lips twisted again.
"We're in new territory," Derek breathed into the hollow of his throat, "and I'll protect what's mine."
He nuzzled the bite and Stiles jerked at the sudden pain, going hot all over when Derek's mouth closed over it.
Derek's tongue pressed flat against the wound before he went back to sucking it.
Stiles managed to inhale. Sort of.
"Whoa, whoa," he tried, hands scrabbling to push at Derek. "Down boy."
Derek growled again, not moving an inch.

"There isn't a bed within walking distance so you just-you calm down."
"Don't need a bed," Derek mumbled into his skin, "is that supposed to be a challenge."
Oh god. Stiles flushed even hotter, looking up before closing his eyes and trying to maintain some semblance of control.
"We can't just jump straight to the reunion sex okay? Plus aren't there like a shit ton of people in that house right behind us?"
"The music probably wouldn't cover it," Derek mumbled. He sounded downright depressed about it.
"Not to mention the whole mating thing," Stiles managed to level him with a stern look.
"The whole mating thing," Derek echoed, eyebrows furrowing.
"Yeah aren't we like…not supposed to…do that."
"Oh," Derek frowned, stepping back and putting space between them. "Right no. Of course. Right."
"Whoa, whoa, hey," Stiles protested, flailing for him and yanking him back. "I said you weren't allowed to let me go, remember?"
"Well which is it," Derek demanded, huffing out a quick breath.
"Which is what?"
"Do you want me or not?"
Stiles gaped at him.
Really. He just gaped.
"How-h-how is that not obvious?"
He gaped a bit more before, "Did you miss me mauling you as much as a human even can?"
"Well-"
"If it wasn't going to end in sex I would reenact it for you. Happily."
"So no sex?"
"What?" Stiles gasped, body aching just at the idea of it.
"If you don-"
Stiles' hand slapped over his mouth.
"Oh my god shut up, shut up. I want. Believe me I want. I never said I didn't. I only thought we were supposed to resist the whole urge to mate and therefore sex was dangerous."
Derek licked at Stiles' palm before scraping his teeth over his fingertips.
Stiles yanked his hand away, face burning.
"Stop it," he hissed, wiping his hand on his jeans quickly.
"I can't walk away from you again. I don't care if we have to knock your dad out and bring him back to Maine in my trunk. We'll find a way."
"Oh my god you cannot mention my dad in the same discussion as our sex Jesus Derek."
"Okay forget about your dad," Derek advised, hips pressing Stiles' into the back of the truck firmly. "I'm not leaving you again. So bending you over the next available surface and finally claimingwhat's mine? I'm all for that."
Stiles couldn't manage a response.

Derek tugged his phone from his pocket and Stiles realized then it was vibrating again.
Eat your words.
Stiles groaned. Now he used proper punctuation? Really?
He passed his phone back to Derek.
"Call your brother. Tell him I love Curtis more and he can go fuck himself."
"When did you meet Aaron?" Derek questioned, unlocking Stiles' phone after a moment and pressing a few buttons before putting it to his ear.
"Few weeks ago. He's an asshole."
"I know."
Stiles was close enough to hear Aaron, scowling at the extremely self satisfied tone.
"Stiles says fuck you," Derek told him plainly and Stiles smiled, ducking into Derek's shoulder.
"Mom says don't scar Curtis for life when you claim Stiles."
Derek tugged the phone away to scowl at it.
"You are such an asshole Aaron."
"It'd be awkward for everybody. I'm only thinking of you Bro." There was a pause. "Oh Mom also wants to make sure you're not angry with us."
Derek smiled softly and Stiles couldn't help but reach out to trace it with his fingertips.
"I'm not mad," Derek murmured, lips catching at Stiles' fingertips briefly. "I've gotta go. I'll call you back in a few hours."
Aaron laughed and Stiles flushed hot again.
"Don't hurry on my account. Make it tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," Derek agreed, dropping Stiles' phone into his back pocket and pulling Stiles away from the truck by his wrist.

"Uh where are we going?" Stiles questioned, heat thrumming through him unevenly.
There was just something about the word claim.
He never used to think so though.
"You drove right?" Derek didn't look back as he asked.
"Well yeah-"
"Good."
"I don't have a backseat," Stiles blurted, huffing when it didn't even earn a grunt from Derek. "Are you even listening to me?" he complained, "Because really this is not very good communication going on and I thought we had finally-"
Derek spun so fast Stiles stumbled into him, nearly falling.
"If you think I'm going to allow you to mate with me in a backseat…" he drifted, running his nose the length of Stiles' neck, "you are so far off base," he finished, turning and tugging Stiles along again.
Stiles whined at the distance that was once again between them.
"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if we just-"
Derek stopped again and Stiles slammed into him again, clinging this time.
"If you'd stop arguing we'd already be in the car," Derek told him quietly, tone nearly threatening.
"I'm not arguing I'm just," he cut off as Derek's teeth closed gently over his throat. "Oh my god," he exhaled. "I think I'm nervous," he admitted on a whisper. "I really think I'm nervous. I'm sorry."

Derek's entire body loosened as if the words were a bucket of cold water and Stiles buried his face in Derek's chest so he didn't have to look at him.
"I didn't want that reaction," he mumbled into Derek's shirt.
Derek's fingers dug into his hair, rubbing after a moment.
"You're fuzzy again," he commented.
"Are you mocking me?" Stiles gasped, horrified.
That earned him a quick rake of Derek's nails.
"No I'm not mocking you. You're fuzzy."
Stiles' lips curled against his will.
"That was one of the first things you said to me."
"Was it."
"You said hey," Stiles reminded him, "and then you told me I was fuzzy."
"How do you remember that?"
"Um I just lost my virginity. Kind of branded forever in my mind."
"At least I got better at it," Derek murmured.
It was Stiles' turn to frown in confusion.
"Better at it?"
"I told you I loved you," Derek told him. "After sex. But you don't remember."
Stiles gaped.
"You mean before the confessional in the woods that somehow reeked of Romeo and Juliet?"
Derek smiled at him.
"Yes. Before that."
"Huh."
"It's a good ego boost," Derek smirked.
Stiles was mystified that it seemed he was teasing him.
"I figured out how to shut your brain down. At least for a bit."

Stiles swallowed with some difficulty.
"And when you're ready," Derek continued, "we can do it again."
Stiles managed an unintelligible sound.
"Ready, yes ready. Heh. I am so ready. Let's do this."
"That was easy," Derek hummed.
"You love me," Stiles told him, as if he needed reminding.
"Yes," Derek confirmed seriously.
"And I love you," Stiles said happily.
It was easy like breathing. He hadn't expected that.
"Let's go to your house," Derek rubbed the back of his neck one more time before stepping back. "We don't have to go right to the sex. It'd probably be better if we didn't actually. Might be better if I just scent you really well first."
"You didn't already do that?"
Stiles slid his wrist along Derek's, catching his hand.
"Clothes are in the way."
"Shit," Stiles muttered, nearly biting his tongue. "If we get naked we are having sex."
"Mm. We'll see."
"Don't be such a cock tease," Stiles groaned.
Derek only turned back enough to grin at him.

"I don't want to hurt you," Derek added seriously when they were finally in Stiles' jeep.
Stiles scowled at him, still offended at Derek's obvious distaste for his jeep.
"We're back to that really?"
He reached out to rub his dash soothingly before scowling at Derek again.
"Yes basically because it's been months and I won't be able to control myself."
Derek groaned before rolling his neck and shoulders.
"I thought I would never see you again," he added quietly.
"I know," Stiles glanced from the road back to him.
He remembered the feeling too well.
"So it's going to be rough. The first few times."
"Sex is a great pain reliever," Stiles offered, mouth dry, "remember?"
Derek's lips pursed and Stiles caught a glance of fang when he let out a clipped,
"Yes."
"And your massages," Stiles all but moaned. "I know you'll take care of me."
Derek growled and a shiver ran up Stiles' spine.
"Still," he tried, fangs poking out of his lips, "I should scent you first."
"Or during."
Stiles inhaled quickly, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
"Driving," he reminded himself aloud, "driving right now."

Stiles was never more glad he'd forgotten to lock the door. As soon as it was safely closed Derek was wrapped around him again, hands skimming under his shirt and over his stomach.
"God I love you," Stiles let out, sagging into him.
"You're mine," Derek returned, hands slipping around his hips and hauling him up.
Stiles' back slammed against the door, Derek pressing him there firmly.
"Shit, shit, shit, bed's upstairs," he panted, hands clenching in the fabric of Derek's shirt.
"We're not gonna make it."
"Holy god," Stiles managed. Inhaling sharply he let his lips open again. "Yes okay door sex yeah I can totally get behind this."
Derek growled before scoring his teeth over Stiles' jaw.
"Not stable enough."
"Oooh," leaked out of Stiles' lips on hardly any air. "You're not going to break my bed are you because that would be hard to explain," he rasped.
"Floor," Derek suggested, eyes a steady blue.
"I'm going to die." Stiles meant it seriously but the breathless quality he couldn't shake pretty much ruined it.
"I won't let you," Derek breathed into his skin, pulling him away from the door in the next second.
He turned and made it about two steps actually into the house before stopping again.
"No way," Stiles groaned, "we are not having sex in the hallway."
Derek nipped his jaw.
"Lube's upstairs."
Derek sighed and Stiles knew he won the argument they hadn't had yet but it didn't really feel like he won anything.
"I wasn't exactly expecting this," Stiles said by way of apology. "Plus I can't really keep lube in the entryway I mean that would just be-" He cut off as Derek began sucking on his neck again.
Stiles barely noted they were making their way up the stairs.

Derek set him back on his feet inside his room and immediately began stripping.
Stiles stared, probably for too long, before moving to close the door.
Derek was already down to his jeans and bare feet, reaching behind himself before bringing out the knife Stiles had felt earlier.
"Oh shit," Stiles exhaled.
That should not be as hot as it was. Absolutely not.
The sheath was tossed to the floor and Derek advanced on him.
"Oh," Stiles breathed, "shit."
His heart was hammering and he knew very well Derek could hear it.
Derek could have been smirking or snarling. Maybe it was somewhere between. Stiles couldn't decide.
He plucked at the collar of Stiles' shirt with his fingertips, slitting it open about two inches with a deft swipe of his wrist.
Stiles' knees gave out and he fell against the door behind him.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Stiles muttered as Derek mouthed at the exposed skin, sucking so hard it burned.
Derek cut his shirt again, the slice in the fabric stopping halfway down his ribs.
"Fuck-you-fuck," was all Stiles managed.
Derek let the knife drop to the floor, Stiles was almost sorry to see it go, before taking either side of his shirt in both hands and ripping it the rest of the way open.
"That was so p-pointless," Stiles stammered out, gasping for more oxygen.
"No," Derek disagreed simply before dipping to lap at his chest.
"Unnece-oh my god…unnecessary then."
"You liked it," Derek smiled slowly.
"Fuck you." It wasn't even halfhearted.
Derek simply arched an eyebrow.
"Lube's under the mattress," Stiles said to distract him.
It worked.

Stiles never thought he'd be flat on his back on the rug in his room.
But Derek was tugging his jeans free of his legs and he suddenly didn't care.
Derek's hands clutched his hips and he pressed his entire body down on top of Stiles'.
Stiles sighed into his neck, body accepting the weight gratefully.
They lay still for much longer than Stiles expected before Derek finally began rolling his hips. The calm he'd somehow managed shattered and his hands were up and clutching at Derek's back. He was whimpering pathetically by the time they were both naked.
Derek stopped mauling his neck rather suddenly, glaring in the direction of his jeans.
"What," Stiles panted quietly, "what is it?"
"Phone," Derek gritted, climbing off him.
Stiles whined and made grabby hands, to no avail.
Derek shoved his phone in his face and Stiles shot up, seeing Dad on the screen.
"Fuck," he groaned before faking what was truly an excellent yawn and answering the call.
Derek paced anxiously as Stiles talked to his father, even cracking his knuckles.
Stiles would have told him he didn't have to force himself not to eavesdrop but supposed it was polite of Derek and would probably be nice in the future.
Ending the call he tossed his phone away and laid back in what he hoped was an inviting position.
"Holdup at the gas station, won't be home for dinner, gave me permission to order pizza," he rattled off when Derek didn't jump back on top of him.

Stiles sighed before reaching for the lube himself because his dick was a little sad and could use some stimulation. He stroked twice quickly before leaning on his left hip and pulling his leg out of the way. He slicked his fingers, gasping when he spilled some lube on his stomach as well. Meeting Derek's eyes as he pressed a finger against his hole drew a moan from him.
Derek was staring at him, eyes blue again, mouth hanging open almost half an inch.
Hooking his fingertip and tugging at the rim of muscle he moaned again.
He wasn't in the mood to tease himself, not really, but he had a feeling it was doing more for Derek than it was for him. He tightened up around his finger, groaning in frustration. Now was not the time for his body to be uncooperative. Letting his fingertip slip free he rubbed with two, hips already rocking into the pressure.
"If you don't get down here I swear to gu-" breaking off on a moan Stiles shoved his finger back in, thighs tensing and trembling. He forced a second finger in on the next stroke, groaning at the pain.
"When did you get so good at that?" Derek questioned hoarsely. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and Stiles had to resist the urge to smirk.
"I'm a teenage boy," he answered, "I have hormones."
"How-you…" he drifted, as if unsure how to finish the sentence.
Stiles paused long enough to shoot him an incredulous look.
"You think I used this with someone else?"
It took Derek a moment to shake his head, as if he was stunned stupid.
"So you did this," he finally allowed, "by yourself."
"Obviously."
He started moving again, need arcing across his skin.
"Thinking about…us?"
"Actually I have a thing for Richard Simmons," Stiles bit out, thrusting in harder.
Derek snarled and Stiles shivered just at the sound.
"Fuck Derek of course I was thinking about you if you don't get the fuck down here and put your dick inside me I swear to god I am going to-"

Thankfully Derek chose that moment to blanket him, cutting off whatever absolutely ridiculous threat Stiles had been about to come up with.
Derek yanked his wrist out of the way, pinning both of them above his head.
He bared his teeth, Stiles biting into his bottom lip savagely to catch the sound when Derek thrust in.
Blood seeped over his teeth and slid along his tongue and he couldn't breathe.
"Fuck, fuck," he whined, hips already canting up for more.
Derek's hips rolled against his, trapping his cock in sharp pleasure pain.
His hands fell to the rug on either side of Stiles' head, fingers clenching in the fabric.
"I'm not gonna last," Stiles whimpered, nails digging into Derek's shoulder blades.
"No," Derek agreed and fuck was that already his knot?
"Fuck," Stiles whispered, trying to spread his thighs wider.
It was too much but he wanted more.
Derek's hips stilled against his and Stiles made a protesting noise, eyes slamming shut as Derek's knot continued to swell alarmingly fast.
"Oh my god," Stiles squeaked out.
"Fuck, sorry," the words were half growled and Stiles heavily debated blacking out.
"Think you're breaking me," he gasped out, trying to hold him even tighter.
Derek dipped to his neck, licking and scraping his teeth along it.
Stiles bit his lip again, wincing at the pain.
Derek's hips rocked minutely before rolling and Stiles moaned louder than should have been possible. He wondered if it hurt Derek's ears.
Teeth closed over his collar bone gently and Stiles squirmed.
Every thought in his brain was circling in a tight coil of need to come, need to come, needtocome.
Derek's hips kept rolling against his and Stiles was burning up.

He worked a hand between them with a lot of desperation, a sheen of sweat, and a bit of luck. He wasted no time in wrapping a hand around himself, jerking up. His hips stuttered in momentary confusion, tugging on Derek and wringing a moan from each of them.
Derek pressed tight against him, somehow also leaving him room to stroke himself. His mouth aligned with Stiles' neck and Stiles knew what was coming. This had happened enough times.
His mouth only just opened on a soundless cry when Derek's teeth broke through the skin.
Stiles, being Stiles, immediately started cursing through his twisting haze of pleasure.
A few moments later Derek chuckled.
"Hate you so much," Stiles let out.
"No you don't," Derek returned, somehow managing to yank the cover off Stiles' bed and arranging it around them.
"You're going to have to heal all the shit on my neck you know that right."
Derek grunted.
"I think that was actually too intense to be enjoyable," Stiles admitted after several minutes of silence.
"I'll give you a massage," Derek said, unmoving.
"Fuck I think I love you again."
"Shit am I bleeding on my rug?" Stiles questioned as the thought occurred to him.
Derek checked quickly before laying down again.
"Just oozing a little."
"What a relief," Stiles muttered dryly.
"Definitely have to last longer next time," Derek returned.
"Speaking of next time how necessary is the biting because…" he drifted as Derek tensed on top of him. "I'm sensing you have something to tell me?"
"That's how it's done," Derek said softly. "Claiming. Mating. It's through a bite."
"Oh."
Stiles stroked his fingers along the back of Derek's shoulder unconsciously.
"So why haven't we mated then?"
"Because you have to bite me too."
Stiles laid in silence for a few seconds.
"Oh."

Stiles got his promised massage.
In fact Derek massaged him until he fell asleep.
When Stiles woke up it was dark in his room. His covers were suspiciously close to his shoulders and Gus was curled up on the side of his bed.
His dad had been here and he had to assume Derek had fled for that reason.
Sighing Stiles rolled over and sleep teased at the edges of his brain for a while.
Eventually he got up and ambled to the bathroom, pleased that he wasn't achy at all. Instead he just felt warm and content.
Returning to his room he snagged Pop-Tarts off his desk and settled on his bed.
He reached under the mattress with one hand as he ate, relieved to feel the bottle of lube tucked back where it belonged. Something crinkled under his fingertips and he pulled out a slip of paper.
sorry I had to go – call me soon
Stiles laid back, still holding onto the note.
Fuck I'm Bella Swan.
The male version.
Bello.
Bello Stilinksi.
That sounds fucking disgusting.
He was still smiling though.

A/N: Aaaah so okay I know that was like the most pathetically short smut in the history of everything in existence ever but I'll try really hard to make the next one better okay.

Promise.

Also I changed the reunion SO many times but I finally just decided to go with my gut and yeah.

Derek was tuning out the music and that's why he didn't hear Stiles.
Just in case that wasn't clear. I didn't want to overkill.

I am more nervous than usual wow this sucks the big one.

I guess because I know everybody was waiting for this and I just hope it wasn't too disappointinggggg I am stopping okay thank you.